Fixing Sam
by Unknown lazy ass
Summary: When you turn with tears in your eyes, I have no idea how I’m going to fix this. Fix you. The one person I thought was unbreakable. Sam x Carly
1. Step i

**Fixing Sam**

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**Disclaimer:** I don't have any legal rights to iCarly. Nickelodeon does, it is created by Dan Schneider.

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You're happy, so happy, so extremely happy. So why am I not happy with you? And why do I feel sick every time I see you flashing that smile of yours, and absolutely hate it when your eyes sparkle? Right, I remember, I told you I wasn't interested and so you found someone that was. Someone who isn't me, someone that loves you, someone who isn't too scared about everyone else to tell you just how much you mean to them, to me.

"You can't." You are no longer broken; instead your usual calm blue eyes are blazing, blazing with rage, familiar rage but an unfamiliar target. "You. Can. Not. Do this to me!" You're pacing then shaking your head madly and in an instant you growl, "You lost your chance Carly, and guess what? I'm happy you did!" You're lying, I know it and you know it too because suddenly you break. Tears of dismay pour out from your beautiful mouth as you rest your head ever so lightly against the wall. High walls of defense come crumbling down, shattering like glass. "Why? Why do you always do this to me?" I've never seen you so broken before and it's scary but most of all, its heartbreaking. "I love you Carly, you know this so why are you hurting me? Is this some kind of sick joke or a phase? Cause I'm not some toy you can play with, then ditch once you find something better," You're looking at me with those blue-blue eyes of yours and I can't say a single word. So I run. Run away like the year before and the year before that one, run from the one person I wish I could truly stay with forever.

I don't meet your eyes in the halls anymore and you don't bother to pretend that I exist, or acknowledge the fact that just last week I was your best friend. You've made new friends now, Gray and Jessie, both of them are slim balls but I don't tell you this. I'll never tell you this. Because I'm the reason behind all your mess-ups, the sole reason for why you are hanging around those wannabe delinquents and worst of all, I'm too scared to do anything about it.

Freddie tried once, he tried to fix you and you had pushed him away violently. Screaming how he had wet his bed all the way up until third grade and the whole had school heard. He never tried to fix you after that. He lies about hating you. I don't hate you; I can't bring myself to hate you. Even after you spray-painted my name next to offensive drawings and even if you spread all sorts of nasty rumors about me and Freddie. I can't hate what I've helped to create.

Eventually you stop; when I asked, Freddie told me you grew bored of my nonchalant reactions. But that's a lie because as soon as I lie down on my bed, I would cry, ball at how terrible I am for neglecting you and wonder if you meant all those snide remarks. And it didn't take me long before I noticed just how broken I am without you. Even when I smile I'm sad and the year I made the top-ten honors' list I felt disappointed. So I began surrounding myself with people I didn't know or even care to know, all I knew was that they were pretty, happy, and popular.

When you would pass by wearing torn-down jeans and rock-concert T's with Gray on your right and Jessie to your left, I knew, I knew right then that I'll never be able to call you my bestfriend ever again.

He misses you, I don't know if you've noticed but he's changed ever since you've isolated yourself from us. Freddie doesn't rant with joy rather he lists facts, he doesn't smile as much or as wide, and he definitely misses you. During class, the rare ones where you're seated nearby, he would stare at you with longing eyes -missing eyes. And I suppose that's all my fault as well. Lately I've been really good at pretending; lying to myself that one day you'll return demanding a slice of ham like always. But you never do and you never will. Because you're broken, because I've broke you.

I want to fix you…but I can't, incapable of reconstructing perfection. And you, Sam, is perfect.

When I heard that you went all the way to third base with that sleaze-ball Gray I felt my palms turn cold with numbness. I cried that day, in the girl's washroom even as random girls came in and rushed out. I balled until I couldn't feel my nose anymore and my eyes stung so much, it was hard to even blink. Then you came, I froze and pulled my knees up into my chest over the toilet seat's lid. Silencing my hiccups, afraid you might notice me but you didn't. You didn't know that I listened to you cry or how I held my breath as you confessed how much you missed being your old self and how you've never even kissed Gray. When you left like all the girls before, I smiled because maybe, just maybe, I could fix you.

The next couple of days pass by like the days before, only faster. In fact, sometimes I don't even remember waking up to brush my teeth and dressing to go to school, hoping to catch a glimpse of you and if I'm lucky, be able to hear your voice. I've noticed that today, you aren't guarded by your usual pair of misfits, but the two aren't far. Jessie's busy exploring the mouth and possibly- probably much more of Laci Brooker from my Phy. Ed Class. Both of them only a couple of feet away from where you are standing. Beautifully resting against, no doubt, one of the teacher's more expensive looking cars. Crumbs from the cookies you're eating gets stuck on the once squeaky-clean windows, and you've noticed too because you're smirking. The very same smirk you used to smile whenever you've done, did, or will do something terrible to Freddie. Freddie, the one boy you would never ever suck faces with because you're too afraid at the possibilities that he might give you nerd-germs, which in your books are far more gruesome than any cootie or broccoli. I smile my first smile since you've left, mesmerized in fond childhood memories. Then I frown, because I know that's all I'll ever have of you from now on. Only memories.

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**Author's Note:** I sort of sat down and basically puked this little piece out. Not sure where it's going to go.


	2. Step ii

**Disclaimer:** I don't have any legal rights to iCarly. Nickelodeon does, it is created by Dan Schneider.

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**Step ii**

When you left, you didn't realize what a mess you would leave. You figured that some things will inevitably change because the world's all about fucking change. Change is normal, it's not something different and it most certainly is to be expected. For without change you end up remaining stagnant. What you hadn't expected was the lack of change. People went on about their business like it was just another day, that today wasn't the doom day that it was for you and you suppose that it bothers you, just a little. Cause despite how you act and talk, you missed her. God, do you miss her. Some days are a lot harder than others, but as time went by it got bearable. As the saying goes, it's always darkest before dawn. But what do you do if you're trapped in eternal darkness because you've managed to royally screw up the only thing that could possibly pass-off as dawn.

Carly _fricking_ Shay always was the center of your universe and you hating her weren't going to change that. She was the norm in your dysfunctional life and even your abnormal mother can see that you aren't happy, which is pretty wacked since your mom hardly notices the difference between the cat and you. You want to tell her, your mom, everything because maybe then you won't feel this pain pushing down against your chest consistently. Maybe it doesn't even have to be your mom; maybe it could just be some random guy that's homeless and walking on the streets. Then you realize it doesn't matter, what's done is done and what you've done is unforgivable.

And that's the point; you don't ever want to be forgiven. You are aware that you're breaking every last straw you have and though not many people will understand this but somewhere in your logic it does. Destroying all hope so that maybe one day you could just live. No hope equals freedom for you; it brings you comfort and something you've only ever experienced with her, security. Without hope there is no Carly Shay.

So that's maybe why you started to behave like some five year with his head stuck up his ass and your talking way, way up there. Cause even you realize how juvenile and stupid this all this and yet you don't stop, you're addicted. Eventually you stop because everything has an end and it would just be redundant for it not to; one thing that Pucketts aren't is redundant, though the cops might say else wise.

It been days now, not that you're counting because you don't really have a proper attention-span to do so accurately. So you've settled for a month, it's been four damned weeks and you think you're getting numb. That is, until you spot her. Her deep honey-brown eyes glued to you like you're a piece of meat. Suddenly you feel hot all over, almost feverishly you look away. Right, if you can't see her then she obviously isn't there. Bull. It doesn't matter though, not after Mr. Frank comes raging out of the building and goes ape-shit on us. After he's done blowing off stream he starts weeping over his car and all you can do is roll your eyes. It's not like you are made of liquid acid or even rust. Besides what doesn't enjoy a few good bites of chocolate-chip cookies? And just as you are about to explain this theory to Mr. Frank, she comes around, trying to play knight-in-shining-armour.

She gets you off the hook with her sweet talking and by the time she turns around to smile at you, you're long gone. You never were one for thank-you' or apologies.

Gray is looking at you funny, so you start wiping your face fearing that you got sauce all over it. Cause even though Gray's one of those 'just a friend' guy, he still is a guy and a very attractive one at that too. He tells you that you're clean, but he's still got this weird borderline smug look in his eyes so you bark out a "What?" Hoping he bites.

And he does, he always does. "That Shay girl is the one we used to diss, isn't she?" You confirm this carelessly. "Why did she help us? I mean Doctor Frankenstein over there was totally going to bomb on us." He does have a point and if you weren't you, you might be just as clueless, but you are you so you shrug it off.

"Maybe she's grateful that we stopped bugging her?" You make a face right afterwards, "Does it even matter?"

"I guess you're right. She was kinda hot though, you know in that 'I'm a total virgin' sort of way." You realize right then that Gray is a total nub, he's is the nub of all nubs: king-nub because even if Carly is your EX-bestfriend, she still is by far too kind to not be defended.

"Piss off," you spit on the space right between his shoes before turning to Jessie and waving him over. "Me and Jess is gonna head over to Mrs. Kelly's apartment and chuck my chucking-eggs at the windows. Cya...nub."

He gives you this wounded-puppy dog look and for a split second you almost laugh, thinking he's Freddie. Talk about weird déjà-vu.

Maybe you should hit the hay a little earlier today, it's always nice to dream, whatever it may be about.

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**Author's note:** I never planned for this story to be a one-shot so hence the up-date. Still just chucking these babies out without much thought so thanks for the advice guys, glad to know being Bulimic is the next Elvis Presley. Whateves, I'm just glad you guys are enjoying it. 'til next time I puke, thanks and drop a note if you'd like.


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